February 12th, 2011

My Kitten. Margaret O’Hair (Author), Tammie Lyon (Illustrator), 32pp. Marshall Cavendish. 2011. Tr $15.99. ISBN 9780761458111.Gr PreK-2— “Dream kitten, / fluff kitten, / sun kitten, / light. / Yawn kitten, / stretch kitten, / sweet kitten, / bright.” Rhythmic, rhyming verse follows a girl and her new kitten through a day of discovery and play. Kitten has breakfast and cleans up. She watches the goldfish swim and hops into a comfy chair. She learns lessons: “No, kitten, / don’t, kitten, / stop. Kitten, / claws,” when she tries to claw the couch. And gets a suggested alternate behavior: “Yes, kitten, / good, kitten, / nice, kitten, / paws,” and is shown to her scratching post. Kitten plays with yarn, chases a squirrel, gets stuck up a tree and has milk before settling down to dream. This feline answer to My Pup (2008) by the same team is just as toe-tapping and easy to read as its canine predecessor. The sing-song-y rhyme may seem childish to older readers, but those just starting out will pick up words with the rhythm and repetition. The watercolor-and–colored-pencil illustrations are both spot and full-bleed, and they match the action of the text wonderfully. Pussycat fans will delight in the contented orange kitten and her attentive little girl; repeated readings will be required.

I go to the bookstore. . .I read magazines that catch my eye. . . I swoon at the latest YA covers and pick them up and let the pages magic me away. . . .I ruffle through the Picture Book shelves and sconce up in a corner on the floor with a big stack and melt into Word-Land.

I go to the mall and shop with my eyes, my ears. . .and try on whatever I want even if I know I am not going to buy it. Well, the risk is that sometimes you become smitten with something, and buy it. But that is another post. That is the Retail Therapy post.

I watch a movie. . .a movie with dialogue. . .with senses that are over the top. . .with scenery that transports me somewhere other than where I am.

I go to Staples and spend millions of dollars on colors of the rainbow in Post It notes, file folders, notebooks to scrawl in, and containers.

I arrange all the writing things, all the little things, all the pieces that go with the writing, in the lovely, lovely, expensive and so smittening containers.I look at them in worship.I close my eyes in heaven that they are organized and together and all ready for me to pick up at a whim.I whim, whim, whim away.

I work out. . . very very very hard. Work out until I can't even think past the point of needing water, and that is all I need, and in that workout, I listen to music, music, music with poetic and passionate and descriptive lyrics and stanzas and bridges that repeat so that you are entranced with the process of the song.

Then I get food.Yum. Food.Food that is your favorite, luxury food and you don't have to feel guilty for because you worked out.

I find a place to nook up, sketch up with my laptop, my papers, my thoughts, my headphones, my iTunes and I work. Sometimes that place is at home. Sometimes it is Starbucks, Panera, the bookstore, a cafe table on a sidewalk.